


Distasteful Traditions

by hiddencait



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: F/M, vague references to incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What were these parents thinking?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distasteful Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



> I was already planning to try to treat for Alyse in this fandom, but didn't have a clue what to write about specifically. Then as I was Christmas shopping yestarday, I hit the candy aisle and realized a certain tradition would likely seriously unsettle our two hunter-heros. Hopefully it came out as hilarious on paper as it did in my head. Hope you enjoy it, Alyse! Happy Yule!

“What the _fuck_?”

 

Hansel’s outburst drew Gretel’s eyes away from her intent study of the long list of supplies they needed, of which they could likely only afford to purchase half. She’d been trying to rank the items in order of those they absolutely needed immediately versus those they really needed but could survive without for maybe a month or two until Ben finally finished researching their next target. Judging from the incredulous disgust in Hansel’s voice, she’d need to shift her focus. The last time she’d heard his voice hit quite that note, her brother had ended up pummeling a rather unique young man in a corset who’d tried to slip his hand into Hansel’s “purse.” Gretel hadn’t been able to fault the stranger’s taste in either fashion or her brother, but the fall out had been messy. She hoped to avoid another spectacle like that one had turned into.

 

She turned to see his handsome face furrowed in a disbelieving scowl and his hand was twitching towards his rifle in a rather foreboding fashion. He half turned to face her, and nodded toward a store window. She followed his gaze and blinked at what she saw there.

 

“What the fuck?” Her voice wasn’t quite as outraged to her ears, but she was just as confused by the sight. There in the baker’s window were half a dozen sugared and candied, gingerbread houses in miniature. “That’s… different.”

 

“Different? _Different?_ It’s not ‘different’ – it’s unnatural is what it is! What kind of parent encourages that shit? Why can’t they just figure out to tell their kids not to eat the fucking candy? Oh no – they glorify that crap and and and…” Hansel ran out of steam, and this time his hand didn’t just twitch but actually pulled his rifle off of his shoulder, barrel pointed directly at the window. Time for an intervention. Gretel took a few steps to stand directly between Hansel and the window, knowing his finger wouldn’t be anywhere near the trigger with her in front of his weapon.

 

“Hansel, put it away. You may not shoot the baker’s.” She ignored the little voice in her head that said she sounded like her long dead mother, and forced herself not to put her hands on her hips. “We may need to come back to this little shit hole town, so we need to refrain from property damage.” Her brother still hesitated, and she frowned. “Hansel…”

 

Finally he slung the rifle back over his shoulder, his lower lip firmly in a pout. Gretel didn’t doubt he’d feel he deserved to be spoiled later. Lucky for him that was already on the agenda for the night. She let out a silent grateful prayer that it was Ben’s turn to camp out of town with Edward. Not only was she glad for the privacy in their room later, she knew the younger man would have been unable to contain himself at the hilarity of their badass, leather-clad Hansel befuddled by pastries of all things.

 

“Come on, let’s get our room and then see about supplies.” She caught her hand around his shoulder and pulled him along. Suddenly he ducked out of her grasp just long enough to kick the wall of the bakery hard enough to set the table of gingerbread monstrosities shaking. She rolled her eyes fondly.

 

Gods, sometimes he was _such_ a child.


End file.
